Lil' Red
by eternal-depths-of-emerald
Summary: Tired of being the Token Human,Stiles decides to dabble in magic under the guide of Dr Deaton.But after an overzealous night with no sleep,Stiles gets ahead of himself an accidentally deages himself to 4 years old.Luckily the pack is going out of town for Spring Break,but now they have a 4 year old Stiles to take care of who won't relinquish his hold on Derek. Fluff and Sterek


**Hey, guys, this is Eternal-Depths-Of-Emerald and Kori_Anders90!**

**We have coauthored this Teen Wolf fanfic here, for your enjoyment.**

**We actually RP as Derek and Stiles to help get into their mindset, and let me tell you, it was a lot of fun learning how they think, so we hope you like it on our journey there too.**

**So,have fun!**

**Lots of love,**

**Emerald and Kori!**

The wind blew hard and relentless that night, that much he remembers. It was brutal and even a little abusive as it passed through the trees, causing the branches to screech against Stiles' window. It had been an abnormally obnoxious winter that year, starting with snow in _September_. The ground had been white ever since that say in Beacon Hills and Spring Break started next week. He didn't know about everyone else but Stiles knew he was quickly forgetting what grass looked like.

So plushy, so allergy inducing, so freaking green!

This blusterous night, however, was the night that really changed it all. (aside from his best friend getting bitten by a certain Sourwolf's crazy-then-Alpha-Uncle that is) The night that really set the rest of his life in motion.

Too bad he could barely remember it.

Recently, or ever since the beginning (take your pick), Stiles had had it up to Isaac's insanely curly head with just being the Token Human in the "Pack"! always getting yelled out by Scott, or getting not so pretty death threats from Derek's leather jacket'd clad ass for being told to stay back from a dangerous situation. And then, ya know, not. I mean, it's not his fault that he was such a disaster magnet, he didn't go out and actually advertise that he is still indeed just human. A human that runs with a wolf pack, but generally the baddies only get that last part after they use Stiles as their person chew toy. But, jeez, even Batman didn't have any superpowers, like, at all. And he was still out every night kicking ass and taking names. Granted, Bruce Wayne was a bazillionaire and wasn't seventeen. But Alfred even had his bright and shining moments, and Stiles decided it was time for his.

He had confronted Dr. Deaton about his not-so-veterinary-know-it-all's and runabouts and demanded to be included in this supernatural knowledge string. He was surprisingly met with little denial and resistance. In fact, the good ol' doc so kindly offered to teach Stiles in some of his funky mysterious ways, loading him down with books and tomes for a bit of light reading on the side.

During the day Stiles kept the box of spells, herbology, and mystical gem stone books on the top shelf of his closet, least his dad walk in on him chanting openly in broken Old English or whatever the hell language that stuff was written in. Yeah, he'd rather there _not_ be a repeat of the Salem Witch Trials, or have an exorcist come and make him spew pea soup. So when the Sheriff was asleep Stiles would maneuver his desk chair over to carefully, and most importantly, silently to bring the box back down. It was all very nerve racking; the sweating, heart racing, man it was just easier to watch porn that to grab a few measly books.

It was a bit different that evening, it was the last school day before Spring Break, the pack was leaving tomorrow for the Hale beach house down state for the week. When Lydia had complained a few weeks ago about them not doing anything "normal" teenagers did anymore. Scott had agreed with her, saying that it would be nice to leave Beacon Hills for a bit and everything else that was dubbed as supernatural. When Isaac had suggested doing something for their break that they had coming up, and having it shot down by Jackson saying they didn't have anywhere to go, Derek surprised them all by mentioning in passing a beach house his family had purchased a few years before their untimely passing. The pack just stared at their Alpha, Derek was just _now_ starting to renovate the blackened husk that use to be the Hale home, and he had a house with a beautiful ocean scenery? Never one for long silences, Stiles broke it by throwing his hands in the air, declaring "Road trip!" And thus killed two birds with one stone, Lydia and Scott would get their normal, nonsupernatural vacation, to which they will probably keep Jackson and Isaac busy in said beach house and will never step out of their assigned rooms to see the beauty of it.

While Stiles was to leave early in the morning so they could all make good use of the daylight on the road, his dad had an early shift at the station. Early shift meant early bedtime for the Sheriff, early bedtime for the Sheriff meant early magic sifting for Stiles.

Awesome!

The last few weeks Stiles had flipped his way through most of the plant and gem books, learning about chakras, auras, and other poisonous plants that may or may not have the same effect as Wolfsbane if introduced to a werewolf's system the same way. He didn't know because he didn't have anyone to test it on and couldn't decide if he was glad or just a bit disappointed about that.

Hmm, maybe if they came across another psycho, vendetta seeking wolf like dear Uncle Peter he could test some of his hypotheses…

Flipping to the last pages of his current book, _You, Me, And Some Healing Tea_, Stiles sighed as he sat back in his chair, rubbing his hands from his face to recently decided grown out hair, he took a moment to absorb what he had just read. As weird as the book sounded, he actually found some fairly useful information in it, everything from a simple head cold to menstrual cramps. Not that he really needed to worry about that as one, he knew some of the female members of the pack may be a bit interested. Werewolf healing or not, he knew there were even some things Erica's body couldn't fix in just an hour's time.

Shaking his head from _those_ particular gruesome thoughts, Stiles spun his chair to the left towards the digital clock by his bed. 1:30 a.m., Scott was suppose to come grab him at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. to take him to Derek's where they'll all depart in either the Camaro or Lydia's SUV. He had pointedly argued that that should take his Jeep instead of Derek's epitome of male compensation, plus he had more room for luggage in the back. But Scott had pointed out the distance from Beacon Hills to the beach, and the ever increasing mileage racking up on his baby from just chasing after Scott and Derek's wolfed out asses in town.

Traitor.

So the Jeep was vetoed out, oh well, the universe evened everything out again when Scott claimed shotgun in the Camaro and Derek had instantly growled at him, Stiles had ever thought the Alpha red eyes were a nice menacing touch to making sure Scott knew that the answer was a no if he hadn't before.

Ha, take that, Scott! That's what you get for dissing your best friend's ride!

Maybe if he sucked up and offered Derek some of his homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (which he knew Derek loved ever if he never admitted to it out loud) Stiles could weasel his way in to claim shotgun as his. But that would mean being in premium throat-ripping reach from said Sourwolf, and it was a six hour drive to the beach house.

Was a front seat in the Camaro really worth his life?

Hmmmm…decisions, decisions…..

Too many for this late at night. Meh, maybe he'll just bring the cookies for Derek anyways and just wing it. Front seat or not, it would be worth it just to see the almost makings of a smile at the corners of the broody 'Were's mouth. Just as long as Stiles didn't do a fist pump in the air and yell out "Mission accomplished!" or something else embarrassing. Although, who was he to deny himself that victory dance?

Sighing once more, Stiles made a deal with himself, one more hour and then off to bed. He can always catch a few Z's in the car tomorrow, hell Derek would love that because a sleeping Stiles is a quiet Stiles…mostly…

Sitting forwards, he grabbed the next book in the box planted to the right on the ground by his still shoed feet. He brought it up to his face, squinting through the on-setting fatigue and light stain on his eyes, "_Basic Magic For Basic Beginners_." He read aloud to himself, hoping his ramblings would annoyingly keep him awake. "What is this, from Harry Potter or something?"

He flipped through the table of contents and into, of all the books Dr. Deaton handed him this book in particular looked well used. The pages were creased up top as if they had been dog eared once upon a time at certain periods, the pages held that aged brown that old books took on with the years. Scanning over a few pages Stiles gave a relieved smile, this book at least looked to be in a more modern English form. Placing his finger in between the pages he was on, he turned the book back, getting a good look at the author's name on the spine. "Cassandra Deaton?" He arched a brow, giving the book a whole different once over in a new light. That defiantly explains the extensive wear on the bound pages.

"Well, Cassandra," He said as he flipped back to the spot he was holding, "Let's see just how much of a beginning I am."

Turning past your standard levitating and fire incantation, he paused at a color shifting spell. Reading over it, his lips moving along with the words, he shrugged. Seemed simple enough.

Just aim, chant, and migicalize.

Hopping out of his chair, Stiles grabbed something that potentially wouldn't hurt if it were to backfire in his face. Settling for his pillow, he placed it on his desk, a good amount of room in between the pillow and him. Snatching the book back up, Stiles reread the instructions as he stood on the other side of his bed, because this was him, he was pretty much Murphy's Law incarnate.

Cassandra says to visualize something that was the color you were intending to create. So for red think apple, yellow think sun, ect.,ect.

"Ok, seems cake enough." Stiles murmured as honey eyes flashed back towards his desk, white pillow case shinning in the dim desk light, mocking him with its snowy whiteness.

Alright, alright, alright, what was the opposite of white? Black, right?

Yeah, he can so do this.

So, object and things that were black, uh, there was night time…?

He looked from to the darkened sky across from his desk out the window. Nah, too weak, he needed something stronger. Something more tactile.

He frowned rubbing at his eyes, maybe he should just call it a night and pick up when he came back from the beach house. Thinking about the beach house made him think back to Derek's car, making his mouth almost water at the thought of those buttery leather seats, picturing Derek in the driver's seat, his seemingly permanent scowl etched on his perfectly chiseled face as he gazed out the windshield, his ever present leather jacket stretched across broad shoulders.

…So maybe he had a (not so) secret newly developed kink, but you have to admit, now a days very few people could pull the whole bad-boy-in-black look off, and Derek Hale was most _certainly_ one of those people.

Stiles groaned, yep, it was defiantly a clear sign that it was time for bed if he was standing here getting all worked up about freaking dyed cow hide!

He finally dropped his hands from his eyes, blinking away the little spots that suddenly appeared in front of them. He stepped around his bead to flip off his desk light and to grab his black pillow before flopping on his bed and subcome to dreamla-wait a minute…_black_ pillow?!

He rushed over, plucking his pillow up, and holding up close to his now awake self, hands skimming over the new inky colored surface. It was real. Real and the exact shade of Derek's worn jacket, but hey, let's skip over that frightening revelation!

He dropped the pillow on his bed, an obvious contrast to the rest of his lighter colored linen. Doing a fist pump, he continued on with is outrageous victory dance of flailing limbs and loud self proclamations of his awesome epicness. He even picked the pillow up and kissed it, holding it tight to him in a massive bear hug. Then realizing his dad was still asleep and his magic stuff was still out he dropped the still darkened pillow once more, and rushed to his shut door, placing his ear against it and listened for the tale-tell squeaky floor boards that his dad always hit when he walked towards Stiles' room.

Hearing nothing but silence, Stiles smiled and rushed back towards the spell book. The color shifting spell was still open, he looked back to his still shifted pillow and smirked. This magic stuff was, as he said before, cake. He already accomplished on spell, right?

He glanced at his bed longingly, it was crying out his name, sobbing because it wanted Stiles' body so bad. He really should sleep, but the magic book was a like a leggy, big busted blonde, coaxing him over for more fun. He smirked wider, sitting back in his computer chair, staring back down at the musty tome in front of him, barrel blonde with Daddy Issues it was then.

Stiles looked thoughtfully at the book, the next spell was a simple levitation incantation, then a fire curse. He didn't need to try all the little spells, I mean, come on! He already managed to change the color of an object, why not try something a little more difficult?

He quickly grabbed the book, flipping to the back, randomly stopping on a page. Looking down, Stiles smiled. A cloaking spell, now that was something useful. He could totally see this spell coming in handy for going places they couldn't before. He could use it to sneak up on the Argents, and maybe even other packs nearby. This spell could be detrimental to their operation, these could be the break through they've been needing!

He could see it now, Derek would smile and say how glad he was that Stiles was a part of the pack. That little sexy smile that he used only for Stiles.

He shook his head, shaking the daydream away, whoa, he was more tired than he thought if he was running on _those_ kind of thoughts….

The book said to concentrate on a look or disguise you wanted to portray.

Thinking for a moment about what he wanted the spell to take on Stiles was reminded of superheroes he idolized his comics, he could be Batman, or Bruce Wayne. He wouldn't mind being a tall, broad shouldered man. Stiles went from thinking about Batman to how he and Scott would dress up as the characters when they were kids. Then he thought about the first time he had seen Batman. He was about four years old.

Stiles didn't realize he had been saying the incantation for the spell as he thought about seeing the 1989 Batman movie as a kid. A wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him as he stumbled forwards to his bed. He sank into a deep sleep, not noticing the blinding light that surrounded him in a soft, fluorescent cocoon.


End file.
